


flutter for a day and think it is forever

by eirenical (chibi1723)



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Hearing Voices, Impulsive Behavior, M/M, Other, Panic Attacks, Possession, Suicide Attempt, Tentacle Rape, Time Loop, Trick or Treat 2017, Trick or Treat: Treat, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 14:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12484092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi1723/pseuds/eirenical
Summary: Three got up off the bench, proud that he only swayed a little when he got to his feet.  Still, Six reached out a hand to steady him.  It was enough to make him sick.  Always do the right thing.  Always there to help.  Always looking out for everyone.  And really, why did one man need that many muscles, anyway?  Didn’t it just become bragging at some point?“Like I said… not much else to do on a small ship on a long flight.  Besides, the Android says I’ve put on a few pounds.”“Oh, shit.”  Three tightened his grip on Six’s arm.  “I said that out loud.”





	flutter for a day and think it is forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [days4daisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/gifts).



> I have to say, I feel like I could have written your letter. ^_^ All the things you love about this fandom are the same things that I also love about this fandom, and it thrilled me to no end to match to you. Also, I enjoyed both your Trick and Treat prompts so much that I confess I couldn't make up my mind which to write... so you ended up with elements of each. So, hopefully you enjoy a bit of Trick with your Treat. ^_^ Happy Halloween!

_Ours._

_Ourssssssssss._

_**Mine.** _

Three woke, those sibilant whispers still ricocheting around inside his head. He could no longer remember a time when they hadn’t been there. And now he didn’t know which was worse—waking to the sound of those voices in his head, chasers from dreams he could only half-remember, or the fact that every morning that he awoke… it was the same morning.

Fucking time loops.

This morning, it was all Three could do to roll out of bed, drag on the robe he’d stolen from Adrian on the last day before this one began, grab a bottle from his private stash and take a very large swig. No point in saving it. It would just be full again tomorrow… today. Later.

Fucking time loops.

Taking a deep breath and an ever bigger draft of whiskey, Three headed out to start the day. Again.

_Fuck._

* * *

3… 2… 1… Time to run the gauntlet.

“Breakfast in bed!”

“Hey!”

Boom!

“Yes, it is a _fine_ morning.”

“Nope, not a faulty relay switch.”

“I didn’t take it; check behind the nightstand.”

Then it was off to the mess to have that whole ridiculous conversation all over again. Twenty-five times definitely was not the charm on that one. Two never believed. The Android was at least willing to entertain the possibility, but ultimately, she never did, either. And without convincing at least one of them that he was telling the truth, Three didn’t stand a chance at getting the rest of the crew to believe him.

Fucking. Time. Loops.

And on this particular morning, Three couldn’t take it. Not again. So, when the opportunity came to tempt Solara into knocking him out, he took it.

* * *

_Ours._

_Ourssssssssss._

_**Mine.** _

Three woke, those sibilant whispers still ricocheting around inside his head. Like always. Three months. Three solid months of reliving this utter crap of a day, over and over and over. Some days he made it all the way through until nighttime. Some days he didn’t make it past breakfast. On one memorable day, he’d woken up, put Lulu in his mouth, and fired until it was the next day. Same day. Again.

Fucking time loops.

He’d learned French. He’d taught himself to cook. He’d started studying some of the medical books Devon had left behind, picked up a few things he hoped he’d never find useful—like what to do if you ended up with a bullet wound in your chest and no access to a hospital. He’d spent a truly spectacular week of days with Five, rigging up a distillery in the engine room, trying to get her mind off of Six’s initial abandonment and subsequent return. Boss Lady had nipped that one the version of the day in which Three hadn’t been fast enough to keep her from discovering the still and she’d ending up dealing with a drunk Five all afternoon. It had served its purpose, though, lancing the festering wound that Five hadn’t even been able to speak of sober. Three had even—carefully—sat in on Solara’s sparring sessions with Adrian. Every little bit helped, right? And when it didn’t, at least he didn’t have to live with the bruises for long.

Today, though, Three had thought he might just take the Android’s advice and try something completely different. He was just going to stay in bed. Not to sleep. Fuck _that_. He was just going to… lay there. All day. 

He made it forty-five minutes. That was long enough to miss the nonsense in the hallway. It was long enough to miss the conversation in the mess and the subsequent trip to the infirmary. It was long enough that when he finally rolled out of bed, he could avoid everyone. A blessing, because today, he just didn’t even want to try. What was the fucking point?

By midafternoon, Three had been through the two bottles of whiskey he kept stashed in his room and the day was looking up. Or, at least it was looking fuzzier, and that was an improvement at this point. Three levered himself up off the couch, then paused for a moment as the room spun. It had been a while since he’d been this drunk. It had been a while since he’d had a reason to be this drunk. And being this drunk all alone was just no fun.

* * *

“I have lived this same damned day almost a hundred times by now and do you know the one thing that never changes? Not once?”

Six paused in the act of picking up the hand weights, but he didn’t turn. Three didn’t expect him to. They didn’t even have this discussion most days, but the few times they had, Six had at least been in the mess to see the opening act. Today there’d been no opening act. He was going in cold. Hopefully that meant he’d be cold-cocked before too long. He’d already had enough of this day and he was in no mood to deal with the hangover that was sure to be on its way sooner rather than later.

Finally, Six shook his head and resumed lifting the weights. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me, whether I want you to or not.”

Three moved around to sit on the lifting bench. “How right you are, my friend. The one thing that never changes… is you. You get up. You eat breakfast. You hide around in your room for hours. You emerge to eat lunch. Once Solara and Adrian are done sparring, you come down here and lift weights until you’re dripping. You show up at dinner freshly showered. You go back to hiding in your room. The same thing. Every day.”

A short laugh. “Not much else to do on a ship this size on a long voyage. I like my routines.”

But Three wasn’t done. “You know what you _don’t_ do? Ever? Not once?”

A heavy sigh, this time. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me that, too.” The weights kept moving. Up. Down. Up. Down. Left. Right. Left. Right.

“You don’t talk to Five.”

The weights stopped. Six turned, eyes narrowed, a deep frown on his face. “I talk to her. I talked to her just yesterday, when I got back.”

“Pfft. Yesterday. Yesterday was three months ago.” Six’s eyebrows shot upwards and he opened his mouth to interrupt, but Three waved him into silence. “I know, I know. No opening act today. Bear with me.” Three rubbed a hand over his face, wishing for just one more glass of the good whiskey. Tomorrow. He’d get more tomorrow. Today. Fuck. He looked up, jabbed a finger in Six’s direction. “You think she understands why you left. And maybe she does. But, man, she looks up to you. You’re like— you’re like a fucking father figure or big brother or something to her. And you just up and left her when she needed you. Sure you came back, but that’s not the point. You almost died not that long ago. And you almost died _again_ when that colony went down. She’s scared for you, thinking that you’re going to throw your life away at any opportunity to be self-sacrificing and shit, and you haven’t even talked to her about it, yet. That’s… that’s just— you gotta talk to her, man.”

And that was going to be when Three got punched. At least that’s what he’d have done if someone had spoken to him that way. Yep. Any minute now. Just… any minute. A minute passed, then two. Three pried one eye open, only then becoming aware that he’d shut them to begin with. Six was just standing there. Six was standing there and staring at him, those weights hanging from his hands like they weighed nothing. Three swallowed hard against a suddenly dry mouth. “You… you just gonna stand there and take that?”

As easily as that, the moment was broken. Six lowered the weights to the ground and reached for his towel. “Well, I make it a point to not argue with people when they’re right. And you’re right. I should talk to her. Really talk to her. I owe her that much.”

Well, that was distinctly unsatisfying. Three got up off the bench, proud that he only swayed a little when he got to his feet. Still, Six reached out a hand to steady him. It was enough to make him sick. Always do the right thing. Always there to help. Always looking out for everyone. And really, why did one man need that many muscles, anyway? Didn’t it just become bragging at some point?

“Like I said… not much else to do on a small ship on a long flight. Besides, the Android says I’ve put on a few pounds.”

“Oh, shit.” Three tightened his grip on Six’s arm. “I said that out loud.”

Six smiled, one of those genuine numbers that lit up his eyes and crinkled his nose and did all kinds of funny things to Three’s libido that he usually refused to acknowledge. A small chuckle accompanied that smile. “And I think that’s my cue to get you to bed before you pass out.”

Three blinked. Bed. Bed sounded like a wonderful idea. Bed with all those… wonderful… muscles… Aw, fuck it. Come the next today, Six wouldn’t remember anyway. Three leaned in, pressing himself up against all of those amazing muscles, wrapped his free hand around the back of Six’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. And… shit. Six could _kiss_. Six kissed like it had been decades since his last one, like he’d been starving for a taste, a touch, a single intimate moment, and then he’d come upon a feast. It was even more intoxicating than the whiskey had been.

Three fully expected to get punched out for it the minute Six came to his senses and realized who he was kissing, but if you were gonna go out anyway… sometimes pleasure was worth a little pain. Only… Three wasn’t getting punched. Instead, Six’s free hand was sliding down his side and around to cup his ass. Three couldn’t help it; he gasped and arched up into the kiss as that hand gripped him harder. Six froze at that and, though he didn’t pull away, he did pull back far enough to speak. He said, “Can’t say I was expecting that.”

Three shook his head, found himself laughing as he let his face drop to rest on Six’s shoulder. “Yeah… can’t say I did, either. _Much_ better than the punch to the face I was expecting, though, I’ll tell you that.”

Those big hands slid from their positions, then, shifted to enfold Three in a warm embrace. And it was nice. Very nice. He pressed closer.

Six’s response was to let out a soft huff of a laugh of his own. “Did you have any sustenance at all today that wasn’t alcoholic?”

Three should answer that. There was a good reason he should answer that. And he would… in a minute…

* * *

_Ours._

_Ourssssssssss._

_**Mine.** _

Three woke, jerking bolt upright, those sibilant whispers still ricocheting around inside his head. “Fuck!”

Tossing back the covers, Three all but threw himself out of bed. To go from warm and pleasantly drunk in Six’s arms to— _fuck_ —to whatever the fuck this was… Shit. Why couldn’t he ever remember? He wasn’t an idiot. Whatever it was he was dreaming about, whoever those whispering voices belonged to—cold, dark, grasping, and possessive—he’d felt them in his head before. Most mornings he could push it out of his mind. A problem for another day. But not today, because it had been today for fucking _months_. Shit. He needed a shower.

Thirty minutes in the shower—an indulgence he’d damned well deserved and wouldn’t matter anyway come the reset—and Three had finally managed to shift his thoughts away from his nightmares and back towards more pleasant things. Bonus: he’d been in there long enough to miss the gauntlet and all the awkwardness at breakfast. Double bonus: he knew where all the green ration bars were stashed. And wasn’t that just convenient as all hell?

* * *

“You’re hoarding the green ration bars, again. Fork one over and I won’t tell the rest of the crew.”

Six turned away from his terminal, looking up towards Three where he was leaning in the doorway. Three’s smile widened as he held out his hand and made a grabbing motion with his fingers. Six just smiled in return. “What makes you think I’m hoarding them?”

Three scoffed. “Please. Boss Lady hoards knives. Five hoards electrical gadgets. I hoard guns. You hoard the green ration bars. It’s just the way things are. Now hand one over before I go looking for them myself.”

Six laughed, a deep rolling laugh that sent shivers straight down Three’s spine. Fuck. Of all the people to go and develop a crush on… and of all times to _do_ it! Still, Six was even now handing over one of the coveted green ration bars, and Three was not one to look a gift ration bar in the mouth, especially when he’d missed breakfast. Settling in on Six’s bed, Three tore open the ration bar and took a bite. Six raised an eyebrow. “Something else I can help you with?”

Three nodded, mouth too full of ration bar to say anything at that moment. Six rolled his eyes and went back to whatever he’d been doing on his terminal before Three waltzed in. Probably checking up on all his rebel colonies. He was a bit of a goody-two-shoes that way. In every way, really. That was always his problem. But that was his function on this ship. Like Five, he was a moral compass. Three didn’t have to like it, especially when it put Six and the rest of them in more danger than they could handle, but he could—grudgingly—respect it. At least he could understand the impulse, the need to protect the people you cared about. He just couldn’t understand how Six’s circle of “people he cared about” could encompass half the known fucking universe.

As Three finished off his ration bar, he found himself staring down Six’s back. Eventually he said, “You know… I think I figured out what your problem is.”

“And you’re going to tell me what that is, I suppose.” Six closed down his terminal screen and turned back to face Three. “Fine. But when you’re done, can I please convince you to go bother someone else so I can get some work done?”

Three smirked and let himself fall back onto the bed. Whole thing fucking _smelled_ like Six. That was going to get into his brain like nobody’s business and that was not going to help his little crush, no sir. But that wasn’t important. Not now. Raising a hand in the air, he pointed a finger in Six’s general direction. “Your problem is that you get so lost in the big picture that you forget all about the little picture.” He turned his head to find Six frowning at him but keeping his peace for now. “Five, for instance. You got no idea how much you upset her when you left. And then you came back—after nearly dying, I might add—and didn’t even have so much as an apology for her? Do you have any idea how many days she moped around here after you left?” Six opened his mouth to say something. “Too many days, Six. That’s how many. Too damned many. And there hasn’t been a thing I could do about it. But you know what I finally figured out?” He sat up, lifted a hand to poke Six in the shoulder. “Finally figured out that maybe that’s not for me to fix. That’s for _you_ to fix, Tiny. So, instead of hiding in here all morning, why don’t you go talk to her?”

Three then got up from the bed and took just long enough to enjoy the wide-eyed look on Six’s face before he turned and headed back out the door with a smile on his own and a whistle on his lips. For a change, this was shaping up to be a good day.

* * *

“You were right.”

Three turned away from where he’d been staring at Ryo’s old swords, waiting for Six to get there. Butterfly effect or not, the man was predictable and, for a change, that was making Three’s life easier instead of harder, so he wasn’t going to complain. He offered Six a somewhat lopsided grin. “Oh, yeah? Why so surprised?”

Six folded his arms across his chest, a posture that would have looked intimidating but for the way he was hunching in on himself. “Well, you’re not usually that observant, for one, and you’re not usually that interested, for another.”

“Hey.” Three scowled. “Just because I don’t always butt into everyone else’s business doesn’t mean I don’t notice these things. Like I said. Kid’s been moping around for month— for a long damned time, OK? It was gettin’ to me, that’s all.”

Six unfolded from his hunched posture, held his hands up in front of himself with a soft grin. _Look at me. I’m harmless._ Three snorted. _Yeah, right._ Six took a step towards him, hands now held out to the sides. “No need to get defensive. I didn’t come down here to attack you. I just wanted to say thanks. That’s all.”

“And lift some weights, right? Android said you’re gettin' fat.”

Six jerked to a stop, still several feet away. “How did you know that?”

Three sighed. “Because you told me. I know you don’t remember. You never do. No one ever does.” He let his head fall back against the rack of weapons. “I’m getting to be so damned good at this day, I won’t know what to do with myself if I ever _do_ get past it.”

“Three…” Six frowned, reached out a hand to grip Three’s shoulder. “…you OK? You’re not making a whole lot of sense. You been drinking?”

The laugh Three let out then was a little too close to hysteria for his comfort, but he couldn’t rein it in no matter how he tried. “Not this today. Nope. Stone cold sober. Look. Just… forget I said anything, all right? I’ll try again tomorrow. In the meantime… I have a better idea.” With that, he grabbed Six by his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Six hesitated for a brief second, tension running the entire line of his body but, in the end, he let himself be pulled. And damn, if he wasn’t just as good a kisser this time as he’d been the today before.

Still, even given how receptive Six had been before, Three was still fully expecting to get punched for his trouble, so when Six reversed things and grabbed him by the lapels of his leather jacket, Three flinched, waiting for the blow. Only… none came. Instead, Six pulled him away from the weapons rack, bent down just low enough to grab him under his thighs, then turned to push him up against the wall, his weight between Three’s legs easily holding him in place. He then went right back to those desperate, devouring kisses. 

If he wouldn’t have needed his mouth to do it, Three would have positively crowed with delight. And if he’d known Six had this in him, he’d have done this _ages_ ago. Well, he had all the time in the world for it, now, and damned if he wasn’t going to take advantage. Six rocked up against him and Three thrust back as best he could from his position against the wall, the bite of his holsters into his inner thighs providing a delicious counterpoint to the friction of Six’s rocking against his trapped cock. Six pulled back for just a moment, pupils dilated, to ask in a voice far huskier than was the norm, “Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but… maybe we should talk about this before we go any further?”

Three banged his head back against the wall—carefully. He didn’t want to accidentally reset the day and risk losing this chance. “No. No, we shouldn’t. Talking is the absolute last thing I want to do right now. In fact, how about less talking, more fucking me into the wall, please, hm?” When Six’s only response was to raise an eyebrow, Three whimpered. “Of course. Why would anything be that uncomplicated? Can’t this just be a case of mutual lust and what else is there to do on a long, damned flight on a small ship? Because it’s been a really, really long three months for me, and I could really use a good uncomplicated fuck right now.” And the fact that Six was holding him aloft against the wall, completely effortlessly, through that entire conversation was not helping Three’s need for that, _at all_.

Fully prepared for Six to drop him after that, Three nearly whimpered again when Six simply shrugged and said, “OK. Fine by me,” and leaned in to seal his mouth over the pulse point in Three’s neck. A second later when Six resumed his steady rocking into the vee of Three’s thighs, he did whimper. Fuck, it had been too long. This was going to be so… embarrassingly… quick…

Six hitched him up higher on the wall and Three scrabbled to find purchase as Six’s movements became harder, more erratic. Fuck. _Fuck._ Next time, he was going to at least get their pants unzipped first. He panted against Six’s ear, quiet words but full of feeling: “Come on, come on, come on, _come on_.”

And that was all it took. Six rocked them together one more time, then stilled, shuddering against Three with the force of his orgasm. Three whimpered, tried to press down against him even one more time, seriously, just one more time… but Six hissed and pulled back, oversensitive. “Oh, fucking hell, Six, you’ve got to be _kidding_ me. Come on!”

Six laughed a short laugh, breathless, his eyes bright with amusement. “Relax. Give me a second. I got you.” 

Only after Six had lowered them to the ground and eased Three back onto the mat did he reach for Three’s belt and then carefully for his zipper. When Three felt the cooler air of the room against his cock, he let out a short whine and nearly banged his head back against the floor. Fortunately, the cold was short-lived. Moments after freeing him from the confines of his pants, Six leaned in and swallowed him down. This time, Three couldn’t hold back the scream. Too much, too fast, far, far too good… and it really had been too long. He bucked up off the floor into Six’s mouth, seeking more of that amazing heat, then Six slung an arm over his abdomen to hold him down so he wouldn’t choke. Three’s breath caught at the casual ease with which Six held him down, and after that move, he barely had time to warn Six by frantically tapping the mat before his orgasm rolled through him. Shit. So, that was a thing, then, was it? He’d have to find time to explore that, some… other… today…

* * *

_Ours._

_Ourssssssssss._

_**Mine.** _

Three woke, those sibilant whispers still ricocheting around inside his head, a raging hard-on in his boxers, and the shivery sensation of cold, hard fingers running down his spine, his chest, his thighs, down the cleft of his ass— What the _fuck_? He shuddered against the sensation, oversensitive and trembling, twisting desperately in the sheets to get away from those leftover pieces of a dream that had chased him into waking. And the worst part about it was that it felt familiar. Just like those voices in his head… he’d felt that touch before.

Dwarf Star.

Three threw back the covers and lurched out of bed towards the shower, stomach and mind both churning. He’d known. Of course, he’d known. How could he have forgotten, even for a minute? But he had. He’d forgotten for months—even before the start of this damned time loop. The alien. The one who’d possessed him. He’d remembered being possessed, sure, but what had come before? The actual act of possession? That, he’d mercifully forgotten.

Shivering so hard now his teeth were chattering, Three turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it, water rationing be damned, stripped off his clothes and got into the shower, then proceeded to scrub as hard as he could. Still, that cold, hard, oozing touch… he couldn’t get the feel of it off him. That cold had seeped into his very core and wasn’t in any hurry to let go. And now that he remembered? Fuck, he could hear those voices even awake.

_Ours._

_Ourssssssssss._

_**Mine.** _

_Let me back in, my pet… Pleasssssssssse._

_You know you can’t stop us. We’ll come through soon, with or without your help. Then we can play, again, you and I…_

Clutching his hands tight to his head, Three sank to the floor of the shower, shaking ever harder as the water turned cold, his breath coming in hard gasps. He couldn’t breathe. The moist, cloying steam that hung in the air from the shower was cold and clammy, now. Three could feel it crawling down his throat, touching him everywhere, like fingers… hands… no. No, they hadn’t been either of those things, but that had been the only way his mind could process what he’d seen. Because what he’d thought he’d seen in the beginning? What he thought he’d felt? Not possible. No.

One cold rivulet of water slid down his back, but to Three it was something else, something far more solid. He jerked away from it, shut off the water with one shaking hand, and all but crawled from the shower. He made it as far as the towel rack, just managed to pull down his robe to wrap around himself before he collapsed, still shivering, in the corner of the bathroom.

That was where Six found him nearly seven hours later.

* * *

_Let me back in, my pet… Pleasssssssssse._

_We belong together, you and I…_

_You belong to me…_

_There is no escape… We are as inevitable as time…_

_You can’t hide forever…_

“Three! Come on, man. No one’s seen you all day. Five is worried sick, and Two is convinced you stole her holster and put a fingernail in her soup. You can’t hide in there forever!”

Three couldn’t answer. He tried. He just couldn’t get the words out. It took everything he had in him just to hear Six over the voices still clamoring to be heard, each over the others, in his head. Minutes later, he heard Six’s voice again, this time asking Five to override the lock on his quarters. The second the door slid open, Six was there, calling for Three, cursing when he didn’t immediately see him in the room. Six wasted a good five minutes looking for him in the main room, like he might find him under the bed or something equally ridiculous.

Then again, it didn’t get much more ridiculous than being jammed into the corner of the bathroom between the toilet and the wall, wrapped in nothing more than a bathrobe, did it? And eventually, Six did find him there.

“…shit. Three… what the hell happened? Did you fall? Hit your head? Are you drunk?”

That, at least, got a smile out of him. How many times had someone asked him that over the last three months? How often had he had to answer yes to all of the above, and especially that last? Too many.

_Ourssssssssss._

Three whimpered, banged his head against the wall. At this point, it would be worth knocking himself out just to get a break… if only he wouldn’t be right back here, voices in his head and the memory of cold, winding tentacles trailing over his body, a split second later. If only the voices in his head would _let_ him. Six cursed again, dropped down to his knees beside him on the floor and hurriedly got his hand behind his head—in case Three should decide to bash his head against the wall any harder, no doubt. 

“Hey, now. It’s OK. I’ve got you. Come on.” Six gently pulled Three out from the corner, cradled him against his chest for a moment while he adjusted Three’s bathrobe—a courtesy Three would have appreciated if he’d really been enough in his right mind to do so—then lifted him and carried him back out into the bedroom. Three would’ve liked to protest, but he was too busy fighting the chorus of “ours” and “mine’s” going on in his head to protest someone being kind. Once he had Three settled in bed, the covers tucked around him, Six started running gentle fingers through his hair—probably checking for lumps, but it felt so good, Three didn’t honestly care. He ached, all the way from the tips of his toes to his hair. And Six’s fingers felt… nice.

“You are freaking me out more than a little bit here, Three. Come on, man. Talk to me.”

“I can’t get them out.” Barely more than a cracked whisper, but it was all Three could manage. Six leaned closer, his ear hovering right over Three’s lips. Three repeated himself. “Six, they’re everywhere, and I can’t get them out. I can’t get them out. Six… please…” He didn’t even know what he was pleading for. Help? Six couldn’t help him. He couldn’t help back at Dwarf Star, and he wouldn’t be able to help now, either.

“Who? Can’t get who out? Three, what are you talking about?’

Three shook his head, a quiet moan escaping his lips before he choked it off so he could speak, again. “Dwarf Star.”

“Shit. The alien? The one that possessed you?” Three nodded, eyes wide, clutching at Six’s hands. “But, it’s gone. We got it out of you and booted it out the airlock!”

Three shook his head again. “I can still hear them.” He raised a shaking hand to his temple, pressed the heel of his hand against the pressure point there. “They’re in here, somehow. Still. I can’t get them out. They’ve been whispering in my head all day. I can’t… Six, help me. Please. Please, help me!”

_**Mine. Miiiiiiiiiiiiiine.** _

_Let. Me. In!_

That was the last straw. Three couldn’t take it, anymore. Not one more second. Seeing Pip lying on his bedside table, he lunged for her and, before Six had a chance to realize what he was about, Three had the barrel in his mouth and he was pulling the trigger.

* * *

_Ours._

_Ourssssssssss._

_**Mine.** _

There was no gentle wakening this time. This time, Three came aware in the middle of his nightmare, a twisting thing of memories and dreams and whispering voices that wouldn’t let him be. Dwarf Star. He was back in that room at Dwarf Star Technology, Rook’s pasty, pathetic face sneering down at him, taunting him. They’d stripped him bare before opening the box, the better to give their friend access, they’d said.

When that thing had oozed out of the box, Three’s mind had snapped, refusing to process what it saw. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening. Nothing that wrong could really exist, not in this universe. But exist, it did, and Three couldn’t escape it, not even in dreams. Ropes of oozing darkness had streamed out of the box, wrapping themselves around every one of his limbs, immobilizing him even more thoroughly than the restraints. He’d barely had time to draw in breath to scream before another rope of black ooze, more solid even than the others—a tentacle, his mind had gibbered at him, the thing had fucking _tentacles_ —had streamed out of the box, forcing its way down his throat until he choked on it. Then the ropes immobilizing his legs had wrenched them apart, leaving another fully-formed tentacle the perfect opportunity to dive between them, pressing against cock, then sliding underneath past his balls to push against the skin just behind until he jerked against the alien’s hold, to try once more to draw in enough air to scream.

No use. Three had just one hysterical second to be thankful that the ooze the alien was made of seemed to be plenty slick before its questing limb finally found what it was seeking and began pushing into him. Slowly, at first, then gaining speed, it thrust its way into him, shallowly at first, then more deeply as Three’s body adjusted. He didn’t know what was worse—the one filling his mouth, choking off his air so he could barely breathe, or the one filling his ass, sparking against his prostate just often enough that he felt himself getting hard.

_Yesssssssssss._

_**Mine.**_

No. Never. _Never!_ Three started fighting again, then, jerking against the alien’s hold, kicking with everything he had in him, even going so far as to bite down on the one in his mouth. And all he got for his troubles was the feel of the piece of that thing that he’d bitten off sliding down his throat and into his stomach before more ropes shot out to immobilize his entire head so it could plunge that tentacle back down his throat, joined by several of its fellows. More and more of them joined in, slender and thick, forcing their way down his throat or up his ass, or wrapping themselves so firmly around him that he couldn’t move even an inch, could only lie there and take it and take it and take it… until the entire thing had wormed its way inside of him. And by then it had no need to hold him immobile. It had better ways to force him to do what it wanted, and there was nothing Three could do about it.

_Ours._

_Ourssssssssss._

_**Mine.** _

* * *

Three woke, jerking bolt upright, those sibilant whispers still ricocheting around inside his head, breathing ragged, and a scream already on his lips that he quickly clenched his jaw around. Instead, he hissed, “Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head!”

And mercifully… they did. Hissing in return, they retreated. But, Three could feel their satisfaction as they went. He knew, now, that the only way he could escape them was to stay trapped in the time loop… but the only way he could ever possibly be rid of them was to break out, find them, and destroy those sons of bitches… or himself. And of course, they wanted him out because otherwise, they’d lose access to him for good. So for now, they had a common goal, at least: getting him the fuck out of this time loop. That sure as fuck didn’t make them allies, but at least it meant they’d stop interfering. For now.

Three took a deep breath and pushed himself out of bed to get dressed. He’d had a few days break… it was time to run the gauntlet.

* * *

3… 2… 1…

“Breakfast in bed!”

“Hey!”

Boom!

“Yes, it is a _fine_ morning.”

“Nope, not a faulty relay switch.”

“I didn’t take it; check behind the nightstand.”

This time, he’d find a way to convince them. If he had to recite them fucking Shakespeare in French, cook them a five course meal, and shoot himself just so he could fix it, he’d do it. Whatever it took, however long it took, he’d do it and they’d find a way to get him out of this nightmare.

And that was when Six walked into the mess right on Two’s heels. Three smiled and saluted him with the coffee cup he’d just filled. And while they got all of this sorted out, maybe he’d try sorting out a few other things, too. After all, third time’s the charm.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a Carl Sagan quote: "We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever." ― Carl Sagan, Cosmos


End file.
